


Decades Apart, Yet Here We Are

by cuddliestcactus



Series: Speak Now [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Time Travel, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddliestcactus/pseuds/cuddliestcactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not to be indelicate, but has it occurred to you that your soulmark has… similarities to our current predicament?” Coulson asked.</p><p>Jemma froze as the question rolled around her mind. </p><p>“It honestly had not.”</p><p>‘Been looking for you a long time, doll.’ was written in a perfect circle dead center on her chest. It was the main reason she wore such conservative clothing as she found she disliked having such an intimate part of herself on display, and putting on the soulmark concealer everyday was a hassle she’d rather avoid.</p><p>She’d never known what to make of the antiquated endearment at the end of her soulmate’s words, but in the present context…</p><p>Oh, dear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping on the bandwagon because I think I've read all of the other soulmark AUs. Add in a little time travel and voila! Trope heavy goodness, who doesn't love that?

"Sir? I don't mean to alarm you, but I do not believe we are still in Virginia."

Coulson didn't move from his protective stance in front of Jemma. She stood prone between the damp, cold stone of the building and the stiff back of her boss. Between the two, Jemma preferred cuddling the wall to the awkwardness of prolonged contact with Phil Coulson as much as she respected the man.

"In fact," Jemma peered out from around his shoulder to the foggy street before them, "I'd posit we are somewhere in London. Given that just prior to the spontaneous eruption of orange lightning we were both at the Playground in Virginia, I would like to take back my first statement. We should perhaps be alarmed."

They’d been the only souls in the Playground, actually. Skye had been on a retreat of sorts with May, location undisclosed, to get her newfound powers under control. Mack and Fitz were out doing some bonding ritual that she was not jealous of in any way. Bobbi and Hunter had announced they were off for the next two days after flying in from the mission infiltrating the latest in a long line of HYDRA bases. That mission was why Jemma had been staying late as there had been an 0-8-4 recovered at the base. It was some sort of rock, except for how rocks didn’t normally glow an ominous orange and give off gamma radiation. Coulson was filing the paperwork from the mission in his office. All Jemma had done was set the rock in a containment cell from which she could examine it with the help of protective gear. As soon as she had picked it up, bolts of light streaked from the 0-8-4, and the room was alight in orange sparks.

Next thing she knew, she and Coulson were standing under the night sky of an unknown street.

Coulson still wasn't responding so Jemma craned her neck to see his face. The Director looked pale, wide eyed. Jemma's mind registered the symptoms of shock automatically, but the thought of Coulson falling prey to the condition was strange. With all that he had been through, she thought teleportation would rank rather low.

Of course, as a scientist, teleportation was high ranking to her.

Coulson finally blinked and took a heaving breath. He stepped into the darkened street only to turn in a full circle, taking in as much of the tableau as humanly possible.

Jemma took a cautious step towards him, unsure what she would do if he proved to be unstable in some way. She had become much better at acting without a plan in place. As much as her months undercover with HYDRA could still haunt her, she was glad for the forced development of her skills and the greater knowledge of her own capabilities.

"Sir?"

Coulson had paused his frantic perusal and was staring at something above them. Before she could check what that something was, his voice cut through the night air.

"I'm almost certain this is not the London you're thinking of, Agent Simmons."

Confused, Jemma looked overhead only to be faced with an enormous, hovering barrage balloon.

"I feel as though I should apologize for thinking it strange you were in shock, sir. I believe I might be entering that state soon."

They were right off the Thames, as familiar to her as anything. There was Westminster, although she had never seen it so dark. The only light to see anything by was the moon itself, but even that was enough to see the countless barrage balloons dotting the London sky.

It was impossible. Absolutely, positively impossible. Even in a world with aliens and gods and super people, this was beyond... anything.

Against all likelihoods, hell, against all logic, they appeared to be in the middle of wartime London. The siren that began ringing and the subsequent thundering sound of an explosion was a little redundant at that point.

\-------------------------------------------------------

They made it into an air raid shelter with little fuss. It wasn't hard to follow the small crowd of people rushing for a tunnel entrance, but the hours spent huddled under a large archway underground were trying.

Jemma knew a lot about the war in an academic sense. But just like most things in her life, knowing something was vastly different to experiencing it. She had been told all about the stoicism of the War, but she still couldn’t believe how quiet the tunnel was while crammed with all of these people. There were some murmured conversations, but mostly a sort of knowing silence. No hysterics or panicked screams. No terrified movements or mad rushing to the exit. There was only a resigned acceptance.

One that she was scared she would break.

It was all so ludicrous. Time travel was impossible. It had to be.Yet, here she and Coulson were, alone in an air raid shelter under a London that was being bombed by actual Nazis.

Coulson must have registered her shaken composure or recognized the tenuous control she had over herself because he shifted infinitesimally closer. As another resounding boom reverberated through the room, she couldn’t hide her wince.

“I grabbed this off someone as we were entering the shelter.” Jemma heard rustling papers as Coulson pulled out a folded newspaper from inside his suit jacket. He tapped the corner of the page where she could clearly see the date: August 13th, 1943.

“It’s official, then. We travelled to the past. Good Lord.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the smudged ink of the date. “I suppose we now know what the 0-8-4 does. It transports you through bloody time.”

Coulson let out a huff of a laugh. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you curse before, Jemma.”

“It’s hardly professional, but I believe we have surpassed the professional boundaries at the moment.”

Coulson smiled at her and then tilted his head back to rest against the tunnel wall, eyes closed.

“You seem awfully calm, Director.” Jemma eyed his profile from her peripherals, still focused on searching the newspaper.

“We’re in strange circumstances, it’s true, but I’m also with one of the only people on the planet who could possibly figure out a way back.”

Jemma felt the small burst of warmth that she always associated with her team’s faith in her, but couldn’t help pointing out the obvious. “There might not be a way back.”

“True,” Coulson sighed, “ but again, if there is a way, you’re the person to find it.”

Jemma conceded the point. “The 0-8-4 was recovered in the last HYDRA base we raided, correct?”

“Yes. This one was in the north of France. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades, but we couldn’t understand why. The labs looked like they were in the middle of experiments, we found dishes rotting in a sink in the commissary, and a completely full weapons vault. If they had abandoned the base for some reason, they would have taken the research with them. If they had been attacked suddenly, there would have been evidence of a fight and all of the weapons wouldn’t have been accounted for in the vault.”

“Where was the 0-8-4 discovered within the base again?”

Coulson waited for a man to passing man to go by before answering in hushed tones, “Just on a table, underneath a magnifying glass. There were various tools around it that suggested it was being studied, but it was abandoned with the rest of the place.”

“Perhaps, like us, they were transported? It would explain the state of the base.”

“We can’t rule it out, but I don’t like the idea that they were sent somewhere and apparently never returned.”

Jemma opened the newspaper and held it up as though she were reading in order to give them a little more privacy in the crowded tunnel. She whispered from behind the paper shield, “Just because they did not return to the base does not mean they were not returned to their own time. I’d be hesitant to return to the place that had transported me in the first place. They could have decided to let the base be and warned their comrades to do the same. After all, if they had simply disappeared without a trace, HYDRA would have investigated. The base would have been disturbed, not left to rot.”

Coulson nodded along with her analysis. “That would explain why everything was untouched. It’s not like HYDRA to surrender its property, so there would have to be a reason. The returned base workers could have been that reason. So let’s assume that they were returned after being transported. How did they do it?”

Jemma turned the page of the newspaper to see a headline about General Patton calling an injured soldier cowardly. She smiled ruefully at the director. “That’s for us to find out, isn’t it?”

They sat there quietly, listening to the Earth shake around them. Around two hours in, Coulson spoke again.

“Not to be indelicate, but has it occurred to you that your soulmark has… similarities to our current predicament?”

Jemma froze as the question rolled around her mind. 

“It honestly had not.”

SHIELD made notes of everyone’s soulmarks, but only level 8 or higher could access those files. Everyone might have words, but that didn’t make them any less personal.

 _‘Been looking for you a long time, doll.’_ was written in a perfect circle dead center on her chest. It was the main reason she wore such conservative clothing as she disliked having such an intimate part of herself on display, and putting on the soulmark concealer everyday was a hassle she’d rather avoid.

She’d never known what to make of the antiquated endearment at the end of her soulmate’s words, but in the present context…

Oh, dear.

“Perhaps, sir, we should focus on one issue at a time?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

As they were making their way out of the shelter after the All-Clear, it dawned just how out of place they looked. Cataloguing the second glances that Jemma’s jeans and his suit were getting, Coulson guided them away from the crowd as soon as he could.

“We need different clothes.”

“We have no money,” Jemma countered.

“We don’t need money.”

Which was how they found themselves breaking into what looked like it had been a seamstress’ shop, but had clearly been going unused. It didn’t make her feel any less guilty stealing a dress and some shoes that luckily fit. The dress itself was rather flattering and high necked enough to cover her words. All in all, she would be comfortable and blend.

She walked back into the front room to find Coulson with his own shirt, but with a new tie, suit jacket and pants.

“Aren’t we dapper?”

Coulson frowned at her as he buttoned his jacket. “Dapper comes later. Swell is a better word for this era.”

Jemma cocked her head and considered her boss. “Interest in etymology?”

“Interest in World War II and the people involved,” Coulson corrected.

Jemma understood. “The Howling Commandos.”

He smiled and held the door open for her as they exited the shop. “Yes. The Howling Commandos. I’ve been fascinated by them since I was a boy. I’ve read anything I could get my hands on about them. Considering I am now Director of SHIELD, I can get my hands on quite a lot,” he straightened his tie, shorter and fatter than the ties he was used to, “Which is how I know that the Commandos are fresh from a mission in the north of France where they had infiltrated a HYDRA lab and brought their findings to the SSR base in London.”

Jemma was having to walk briskly to keep up with Coulson as he headed down the street. “That seems very coincidental, sir.”

“It isn’t. The old files on their mission mentioned that the base had been abandoned, and I thought there may have been a chance that HYDRA was using it again. It’s why I sent Agents Hunter and Morse to check it out.”

Jemma was nearly out of breathe with the pace they were keeping. It seemed as though Coulson knew where he was going, so she didn’t complain. “You think they might tell us about the base?”

Coulson didn’t break his stride as he turned right onto another street, quickly glancing up to check the sign. “Oh, I doubt they’ll just tell two strangers.”

“Then where are we going?”

“We are going to where we can do a little reconnaissance. Well, more you than me.”

Jemma did not like the sound of that.

“And why is that, sir?” If there was a little more force on the sir in that question, she’d never admit it.

“Captain Rogers knows me. Will know me,” he pulled her around yet another corner and then ducked them under a shadowed archway, “What an odd thought. Anyway, Captain Rogers very clearly did not know me when we met. I see no reason to test out the many disaster theories that movies have been putting forward about time travel paradoxes, do you?”

Actually, the scientist in her very much wanted to do just that, but she knew it wasn’t the time.

“Alright, so I shall be the one to engage in espionage once again. You’ve yet to tell me where it is that you’ve dragged us.”

She would never be able to accurately describe how Coulson bounced on his little toes with excitement, but she knew she would try her best. The moment had to be enjoyed by more than just her. He nodded his chin to the pub across the street. “That is the famous watering hole where the Howling Commandos liked to hang their hats when on leave in London. It’s still open in our time, and I’ve had the odd drink there myself. They just got back from a short, successful mission. Stands to reason they’d blow off a little steam at their favorite pub.”

He was so overrun with elated energy that she was surprised he didn’t give away their clandestine location with an undignified squeal. She forced him to concentrate on her thus distracting him from making such a mistake.

“So I go into the bar and what exactly? Chat them up?”

He took a deep breathe to reign himself in a bit and answered “If the opportunity presents itself, then yes. You can’t come right out and ask about the base, but any detail could help. We need to know if breaking into the SSR headquarters is worth doing.”

“Operating under our assumption that the HYDRA lab workers were returned to their time, there is a possibility that we will similarly be returned without exposing ourselves to unnecessary risk.”

He kept an eye on the door to the pub while speaking, ever vigilant of his surroundings. “It is just as likely that we need to act to return ourselves to our time. We need more information, and this is the best way to get it.”

Jemma wrung her fingers until his own stopped her. He held her hands and ducked his head to meet her eyes. “You’ll be fine. You went undetected in the heart of HYDRA for months until forces out of your control outed you. This’ll be a piece of cake, Agent Simmons.”

She squared her shoulders and smiled.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky noticed her the second she walked in the door. From his perch in a dark corner of the bar, he had lines of sight on all the possible exits so he could see every one that came into the place.

It always took him longer than the others to get out of the mission mindset. In his defense, his work was night and day to the rest of the Commandos'. Not any more or less important, of course, but just different. Whereas Gabe was communications or Dum Dum was transport, he was a sniper. That… took a little more outta you.

So he was alone in the corner, nursing his first pint where the rest of them were in the bottom of their third. He saw the lithe woman duck in and look about the parlor, wouldn’t have paid her any more attention than usual, if it weren’t for her hair.

Unlike any of the other dames in the place or probably within five miles of the place, her hair wasn’t fixed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman’s hair loose, gently falling around her shoulders. Even Carter had every pin perfectly placed in the middle of a damn war zone.

So why’d this girl have her hair undone?

Despite the shock of her coiffure, he noted that she was pretty. Big eyes in a soft face, sweet looking lips. The kind of gal that he’d buy a drink if he was in a different head space. As it was, his body was still looking for threats rather than settled into finding some fun.

Or at least that’s what he told himself when he couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she skirted the crowd to go to the bar.

The only available space was in between Steve and Gabe who were deep into conversation. The other patrons tended to give the Commandos a wide berth so even though the rest of the pub was packed tightly together, Steve and Gabe were given plenty of counter space.

It seemed the woman didn’t realize how everyone kept their distance from the two men because she sidled right up to them. Bucky watched her motion to the bar, Steve fumble backwards to try and clear her path, and her laugh as Steve accidentally knocked into the couple behind him.

A flash of irritation spiked through him as he watched her giggle at Steve’s stammering. The irritation only grew when Gabe signalled the bartender and bought the woman a drink. She took it with a blush and a smile. Bucky wished he could hear whatever it was they were talking about.

Steve, ever the friend and gentleman, bowed out of his conversation with Gabe to let in the petite woman. He smirked over her head at his friend and left the two to talk.

Bucky wasn’t surprise to see Steve heading for him. The punk always checked up on him after missions, knowing that he had a harder time coming out of it.

Using his peripherals, he kept an eye on the mystery woman even as he met Steve’s gaze. Steve sat down at the table, careful to keep his massive body from upsetting anything. Bucky had laughed more about Steve’s awkwardness and mishaps in his new body than a best friend ought to, but he figured you had to take your laughs when you could.

“You know, the world isn’t gonna end just because you took one night off,” Steve said.

Bucky’s crooked grin wasn’t quite what it used to be, but it was getting closer, Steve thought.

“This is me taking a night off. Good drinks, good friends. More than a lot of people got.”

Steve leaned back to take sip of his beer. “True enough. Could add a good girl to that list.”

Bucky tried not to glance over at the mystery woman when his friend said that, but it was in vain.

“Have a girl picked out already, I see?”

The serum hadn’t made Steve Rogers any less of a shit. “Looks like she’s havin’ a good time with Gabe.”

“Eh, they were more buddy-buddy than anything. Go talk to her, Gabe won’t mind. See if she thinks you’re quick and attractive.”

Bucky rolled his eyes hard at Steve’s reference. It’d be just his luck to meet his soulmate in the middle of a war. “Doubt it’ll come to that, Stevie.” He looked over just in time to see the woman finish her drink and couldn’t resist the opportunity. “But if it’s all the same to you, I think the lady needs a fresh refreshment.”

He could hear Steve laughing as he walked away, getting to the bar just in time to hear the woman politely refuse another drink from Gabe, claiming that she needed to be on her way.

She didn’t notice that he was right behind her as she stepped back to leave. She tripped over his foot, but he caught her before she tumbled to the floor.

As he brought her to her feet, she looked up into his face, looking so much more beautiful this close up. She let out a laugh and, in the breathiest voice he had ever heard, murmured “Oh my, you are as quick as you’re attractive. So sorry, must be going…” 

He was so shocked at hearing the words that were etched onto his back in a perfect circle that he stood frozen. By the time he had pushed himself outside, she was gone.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coulson and Jemma had gone back to where they started, across from Westminster and under that first barrage balloon. The news that the Commandos hadn’t brought back anything from the lab wasn’t surprising given they had discovered it untouched seventy years in the future, but it was disheartening to hear that the men hadn’t even gone inside.

Gabe had talked about his squad being restless because they hadn’t been able to do much on their last outing. Jemma, playing naive to whom Gabe and his friends were, had wondered aloud to him why they would be upset about not fighting. Gabe had laughed and told her she would have been upset too if she had hiked all the way to France only to look at an abandoned building and not even go inside.

“I do hope it was just the drink that loosened his tongue, and he isn’t always so trusting. This is hardly the line of work for a man who divulges so easily,” Jemma remarked.

Coulson looked as though he couldn’t decide whether to be proud that his agent had triumphed or upset that an admired hero had shown such questionable judgment. Before he could decide, a familiar orange spark caught Jemma’s attention. She grabbed his arm and yanked him towards the light.

There was an overwhelming blaze before everything gave way to the sight of the Playground. Jemma and Coulson blinked to try and rid themselves of the lingering blindness.

A throat cleared and a cheerful voice echoed in the labs, “You have some serious explaining to do, Agent.”

Jemma felt Coulson shudder from where she still held his arm. “It’s Director now, but I suppose you’re right, Mr. Stark.”

Vision finally clearing, Jemma caught her first official glimpse of the Avengers. 

Plus one, she revised, as there was the Winter Soldier front and center, staring at her quite intently.

Natasha Romanoff stepped forward and called over her shoulder, “It’s safe to come in. Definitely our lost lambs and not a terrible alien monster. Probably.” The grin she gave them was predatory and enticing all at once. Jemma wanted to learn how to do that.

The doors burst open and Skye came hurtling through the Avengers like they were skyscrapers and she was Godzilla. She threw her arms around both of them and squeezed them in a relieved hug. “We leave you guys alone for one night, and look at the trouble you cause! This is way worse than the time you swan dived out of the bus at 35,000 feet, Jem!”

Jemma thought she heard a choked noise from behind Skye at that, but when she looked there was only Bucky Barnes.

Still staring.

Skye let go and told them, in that rapid fire way she had, about how Mack and Fitz had come home to an empty Playground and how they had called everyone back in when security tapes showed an explosion that didn’t burn anything but had mysteriously vanished them. The situation had gotten so desperate that May had pulled rank and called in the big guns.

“Big guns being the Avengers, and after some tantrum throwing that you would not believe over the whole AC being alive thing, Tony, Bruce and Thor went to examine that magic rock and everyone else watched the tape which led to a minor freak out by Captain America because he recognized you, Jem, from wartime London and we realized you guys traveled. in. time. Because that’s a thing we do now, apparently.”

Skye stopped to take a breath and moved so the rest of the team could see Jemma and Coulson. “Oh, and Bucky went Terminator level silent around the time we all watched the video of you guys being magicked away, but Rogers promises that is totally a normal thing and not a prelude to crazy assassin time.”

Bucky looked as though he was going to speak, possibly to express his indignation at Skye, but was cut off by Thor rushing passed him.

Thor moved to Coulson and grasped his forearm in the Asgardian greeting. “It gladdens me to be able to see you alive for myself. Sif told me of your glorious adventures, but it is not the same as seeing with my own eyes.” Thor turned his attention to Jemma. “Lady Jemma, I am also sorry that you were caught in the treachery of the Time Gem. It astounds me how many of the Infinity Gems seem to find their way to Midgard. Rest assured, the gem shall be returned to Asgard post-haste and will do no further harm to this realm.”

“Er,” Jemma sputtered, “Thank you?”

Thor nodded kindly and retreated back to his comrades. “Come!” his voice boomed in the cavernous space, “Our friends are surely tired from their travels. Let us leave them in peace.”

Steve clapped Thor on the shoulder, and agreed. “We can debrief in the morning. Coulson, you got some beds we can borrow?”

Everyone made their way out of the lab, but Jemma wanted a moment to catch her breath, acclimate, and sat in her bench chair.

The shuffle of a footstep on the concrete had her looking back to find that she was alone with Bucky Barnes. She vaguely remembered chattering about him being handsome in the bar, his proximity having overridden her senses. If Steve had remembered her, what if Bucky did as well?

How mortifying.

She could feel a blush rising up her neck and looked down in an act of self preservation.

Cool metal fingers lifted her chin up, and she was blessed with a softly smiling Bucky.

_‘Been looking for you a long time, doll.’_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IF y'all are into this kind of thing, the mood music for this chapter is AWOLNATION's cover of Bruce Springsteen's 'I'm On Fire'

Bucky didn’t tell Steve.

He should have, he knows that, but saying it out loud wasn’t something he could face.

How would he explain it, anyway? Especially to Steve who guarded his own soulmark with such ferocity? The thing itself was massive, wrapping around his entire right thigh, spelling out _‘Please help me, Jane hasn’t slept in 36 hours and I need someone to just throw her over their shoulders to get her out of the lab, and you look like a man with just the shoulder to hip ratio to help’_ in the messiest chicken scratch Bucky’d ever seen.

So how was he supposed to tell Steve? ‘Oh, by the way, I met my soulmate. I was so surprised that the beautiful dame across the bar spoke the words on my back that I froze like an idiot and let her get away without saying a damn thing?’

It was insane. Unheard of.

He had chased after her, of course. Taken a right out of the bar and run down the street like he’d never run after anything, desperately hoping to find her, but she was no where to be found. He’d doubled back to run the other way even though there was nothing that direction but abandoned shops and dangerous back alleys. The thought of his soulmate walking alone down one of the latter had him frantically searching for almost an hour.

He still didn’t find so much as a single strand of her golden brown hair.

After his second pass back by the bar, he ran into the Commandos drunkenly piling out the front door. Steve was half-carrying, half-pulling Dernier out the door when he spotted Bucky.

“There you are, Jesus, gimme a hand, would ya?” he huffed.

Bucky gave the painfully empty street one last glance before ambling up to get a handful of unruly Frenchman.

\-------------------------------------------- 

The next day at breakfast, after a night of trying to recall any hint of black on the little skin his soulmate had exposed, of maddening thoughts of the possibility that he was destined to have a one way bond, of hoping that his writing was somewhere on her body so that they were guaranteed to meet again, Steve innocently asked “So what’d you do to make that girl run outta there so fast last night?”

Gabe butted in as he grabbed some more coffee across the table, which was just as well because Bucky felt like all the air had leached out of his lungs. “Eh, can’t blame our Sergeant’s charms this time, Cap. She was heading out before he ever got over there. Said she had to meet a friend or something.”

Dum Dum blearily clomped into the room, muttering about how bright the lights were in the base and running into a table he had missed since his hands were shielding his bloodshot eyes.

No one noticed Bucky slipping out in the ensuing laughter, his breakfast left untouched.

It was only a few days after that they took the mission in the Alps.

As Bucky fell through the frigid air to his certain death, he only thought one thing.

_‘Guess I won’t see her again after all.’_

\-------------------------------------------- 

They’d tried to take the words.

He couldn’t remember if it was the Germans or the Russians, only remembered broken conversations about which chemicals would be best to burn the marks out of his skin.

None of them worked.

\--------------------------------------------

It was the only thing he lied about to his handlers.

He didn’t scrutinize the impulse. He never looked at anything too closely.

When they asked if anyone had said _“Oh my, you are as quick as you’re attractive. So sorry, must be going…”_ to him, he always said no. 

Even though he knew he’d heard those words before. He didn’t know when or why, but he just knew that he had heard them. 

He also knew that he had to lie.

\--------------------------------------------

After the Triskellion and the hellicariers and _‘You know me’_ and museums and months of memories slowly, excruciatingly slotting into place, he still lied.

He had let Steve and Sam catch up to him eventually, once he had regained enough of himself to know that there was no James Buchanan Barnes without Steven Grant Rogers. His recovery had been as much his as it had been Steve’s, to be honest. Steve had been awake for two years, but he may as well have still been under the ice for all that he had experienced the world.

So he and Steve learned, adapted together. They reminisced, obviously, because there were holes in James’ memory that needed filling, but they spent just as much time going to the VA together or exploring Whole Foods and conning Sam into cooking.

And sometimes Steve asked him about his time as the Winter Soldier.

He understood why.

From Steve’s perspective, they had spent their whole lives at each other’s side with the only exception being the two years Steve spent working through some major trauma. James appreciated that Steve was trying to come to terms with the idea that his friend had around 70 years of life lived without him. Even if it hadn’t been much of a life at all.

When Steve haltingly asked, clearly terrified of the possible answers, if he had met his soulmate, he did what he had been doing for decades.

He said no.

\--------------------------------------------

James looked for her.

He wasn’t expecting much. Most days he continually reminded himself that even if he did locate her, the most likely outcome was him standing over her grave.

Still, he had to know. At the very least, he had to know her name. There wasn’t much to go on: British, early to mid twenties in 1943, in London on August 13th of 1943, and countless rough sketches drawn by his frustrated hands from his own hard won memories.

Even with his considerable skills and help from Stark’s accommodating and discreet AI, he was failing.

When his soulmate finally did turn up, it was only on a tape that showed her disappearing into thin air again.

Only this time he knew her name.

It made it worse.

\-------------------------------------------- 

The second time he saw his soulmate face to face was in an explosion of light.

Tony and Thor had said that would happen, that the Time Gem was powerful, but it didn’t stop his heart from nearly flat lining as her silhouette broke through the violent display.

The show ended as abruptly as it began, leaving Director Coulson and Dr. Jemma Simmons blinking furiously in its wake.

James stepped forward out of the battle formation that Safety Sally Bruce had suggested on the off chance that an unfriendly emerged from the portal instead of their comrades. He didn’t know what he meant to do exactly, but the sight of his soulmate standing there looking precisely as he remembered her, from the unkempt hair to the same dress she had been wearing that night stopped him short.

She had only just met him while he had been waiting 70 years to find her again. He didn’t notice Natalia signaling to the others huddled in the hall that it was safe to enter. The pretty hacker with superpowers knocking him off-balance as she hurried brought him back to the moment.

Skye fiercely embracing the Director and Jemma was a welcomed sight to the Winter Soldier. It was additional proof that this new SHIELD was made up of good people, a heartening notion given that this was where Jemma called home.

Of course, hearing Skye mention that his soulmate had jumped out of a plane at cruising altitude had him choking on his own spit and re-examining the agency.

He’d have to get that full story at a later date.

He kept his eyes glued on Jemma as Skye filled her in on the last few hours. James wanted to correct the agent’s assessment of his silence as ‘crazy assassin time’ but was yet again shoved aside by someone pushing passed him.

Ready to put the aforementioned crazy assassin skills to use if it meant getting to finally speak to Jemma, he was relieved when Thor and Steve announced that everyone should turn in. He watched her take a step back from the group and head over to her lab space. Stepping back to let the others leave, he watched Jemma tip her head back and take a deep breath.

He purposefully made noise as he walked towards her, figuring that the last thing she needed was to be startled. She turned at the drag of his shoe against the floor.

James was unsure what made her flush and avert her eyes, but he found her blush so alluring.

He would always prefer to see her eyes, though.

Lifting her head up, he said the first thing that came to mind.

_“Been looking for you a long time, doll.”_

It was the first time he’d been honest about his soulmate.

\------------------------------------------- 

Jemma’s brain shorted out.

Fitz would never believe her, but for the first time in her life, she didn’t have two thoughts to rub together.

Because Bucky Barnes, famed war hero and recently discovered, longest serving prisoner of war, just spoke the words emblazoned on her chest.

While she felt like her mind was melting, his grin had grown to dangerously enticing heights and his hand had moved from under her chin to cradle the back of her head.

Looking up at him, she whispered “But that was so long ago. I mean, it was only an hour ago for me that I spoke to you, but for you, it’s been…”

Her sentence trailed off as she paled.

“70 years,” he finished softly.

“70 years,” she repeated just as quietly. Jemma thought she could see the weight of each year etched into the fine lines of his face, but knew that was impossible. Even with the hell he’d been through, he physically only looked a few years older than when she’d last seen him.

An hour ago.

Her arms encircled him of their own volition, one at his neck and the other at his back, dragging him into an awkward crouch above her. She stood from her seat to relieve him of the uncomfortable posture, but instead of straightening, he simply pulled her into the curl of his body, arms clutching at each other.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke the words into his neck.

He hugged her impossibly tighter.

“Nothing you could have done differently, sweetheart. We’ve had these words on us our whole lives. It was always going to happen like this, Jemma.”

She knew that intellectually, but it still seemed as though fate had been incredibly cruel to him. A part of Jemma thought she could make up for that, but the rational side of her tried its best to quench the instinct. She’d only just met the man, after all, but she felt as though she’d always known the warmth he emanated.

Those were thoughts for another day, one where she hadn’t been exhausted by time travel. Breathing in her soulmate’s scent, a sweet sandalwood, was quickly lulling her to sleep. He must have sensed her drowsiness because he pulled away enough to shift her to his side, but still in his arms, and led her out of the lab.

She leaned her head against his shoulder as they meandered down the hallways towards the residential wing of the Playground. “I like the way you say my name,” she told him.

“Yeah?” she felt him press his lips to the top of her head, “It’s a beautiful name, Jemma.”

She furrowed her brows as she turned them in the direction of her quarters. “It occurs to me that we haven’t been properly introduced, and so I don’t know exactly what to call you. How rude of me.”

She stopped them in front of her door and twirled to catch a glimpse of his face. The corner of his full mouth was quirked up, his eyes crinkled at the corners like he was seconds from a laugh.

“I think we can cut ourselves some slack, don’t you? Kinda a big day and all,” he shrugged one shoulder up to his ear in the most obnoxious bashful routine she’d ever witnessed.

She loved it.

Biting her lip didn’t stop the smile from blooming. She felt that blasted blush spreading once again, but steadfastly ignored it. “Well then? What shall I call you? Bucky?” The nickname felt clunky on her tongue.

His eyes hadn’t left the spot on her lips she had been biting. “If you want,” he hesitated a second, “But Steve’s really the only one who does. He’s always called me that so that’s no skin off my back. Everyone else, though, they call me James.”

Jemma brought up a hand to cover his cheek, stubble tickling her palm. “James.”

She didn’t think he was aware that his face was moving towards her. That didn’t stop her from bringing their lips together.

James closed his eyes and smiled.

\-------------------------------------------- 

Coulson awoke to a heavy pounding on his door. A glance at his clock told him that he’d be shooting whoever had woken him.

Upon finding that it was Captain Rogers trying to break down his door at 4:45 in the morning, he reconsidered murder and decided to shoot only to wound.

“Can I help you, Captain?”

The Captain was only wearing flannel pajama pants, but was sweating profusely. Coulson fought the urge to offer him a towel.

“It’s Bucky, I can’t find him anywhere!”

Perhaps if he had had more than three hours of sleep, a missing assassin would alarm Coulson more. As it stood, he was discovering that a lifetime of hero worship only extended so much immunity in the face of sleep depravation.

“I see,” Coulson took a fortifying breath and asked “Where did you last see him?” as if a grown man was just a set of misplaced keys.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and began pacing in the small space in front of Coulson’s bedroom door.

“In the lab with everyone else!” his voice raised in pitch as he got more worked up, “I woke up and realized he wasn’t in the bunk above me which is strange because it is the only empty bed in the base. So I went looking for him thinking maybe he was patrolling because sometimes he does that in new places, but I’ve run through the whole Playground twice and haven’t found him!”

Coulson thought it was absurd to worry about a 90 year old lethal operative within a secure and uncompromised base, but he wasn’t about to tell that to Captain America.

“I’d suggest checking the surveillance feeds. They’d tell you where Sergeant Barnes is hiding,” Coulson smiled and waited for the Captain to be on his merry way. He did not expect the Captain to grab him and drag him to the computers in charge of security.

If Coulson was going to be manhandled into the search party, the least the Captain could do would be to get him some coffee.

Getting the feed from earlier that night took no time at all. They watched the Sergeant stay behind as the assorted SHIELD personnel and Avengers filed out of the lab, watched him approach Jemma and then listened to him speak with her. The words he spoke just so happened to be the ones on Jemma’s soulmark.

Had Coulson had any coffee to choke on, he would have.

Captain Rogers apparently did not appreciate the enormity of what they had just watched because he grabbed the touch pad and fast-forwarded the video until they saw the two passionately embrace in front of Jemma’s door and then disappear behind it.

Coulson did not need to know this much about his team. He did not want to know this much about his team.

He had decided to just force the memory from his brain and head back to sleep when the earnest face of the Captain blocked his exit.

“I’m sorry, Director. Bucky used to be a flirt and all, but I can’t believe he thought this was a good time for that bit of him to be resurfacing,” the Captain began moving to the door, “I’ll make sure this gets handled. Dr. Simmons has had enough to deal with today without this. I don’t know what Buck was thinking…”

Coulson, who prided himself on being unflappable, felt his eyes go wide as understanding dawned.

“Captain! I wouldn’t intervene,” but the Man with a Plan was already halfway down the hall, sprinting away. “Wait, you’ve got the wrong idea!”

Coulson couldn’t have hoped to catch the original super soldier on a full nights sleep and with a fully balanced breakfast in him, so it was to be expected that he lost sight of the Captain quickly.

By the time Coulson made it to Jemma’s room, Captain Rogers had already commenced his second door assault of the morning.

Coulson slumped against the wall in defeat.

Still, he gave the situation one more chance to be redeemed. “Captain, stop banging on the doors. What Sergeant Barnes said to Agent Simmons on the video feed? That’s her soulmark.”

The arm that he had been using to brace himself against against the wall slipped, and he fell face first into the door at Coulson’s proclamation.

Coulson looked heavenward, wondering if perhaps Heimdall was watching and willing to put him out of his misery.

“Hish shoulmate?” the Captain lisped. A quick glance showed the Captain had given himself a bloody nose.

The door was violently wrenched open behind them to reveal the diminutive and seemingly pantsless biochemist in question. “What the bloody hell is this racket?!”

“Doctor Shimmons,” Captain Rogers stammered from behind his hands, blood mixing with sweat and running down his neck in tiny rivulets.

Coulson took pity on the man. “Agent Simmons, the Captain and I were just leaving. He was operating under a misunderstanding. Get some sleep,” he grabbed the Captain by the elbow and moved him away from his scientist. “Please apologize to Sergeant Barnes for the disturbance. And congratulations to you both.”

Jemma’s hands dropped to the hem of what was most assuredly the Sergeant’s shirt and blushed bright red.

Coulson smiled and continued to haul a National Icon behind him.

If he used the ICER on the Captain, he could probably get in another couple hours of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the last chapter was pretty unanimous in wanting more interaction from Bucky and Jemma so I felt obliged to give the people what they want :)
> 
> Also the Shieldshock companion piece to this one is the next story in the series.
> 
> As always, I'm iamkatebishop on Tumblr. Come say hi!


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